Lemon Juice
by DarkerSideofGlee
Summary: Sam Evans has a beautiful life. When everything falls apart, who will really be there to hold his hand?
1. I Do Not Like Green Eggs and Ham

A/N - This is my first fic, ever so please be honest and review. I'm rating it M because I'm hoping it will get darker the further into the story I get. There will be multiple pairings so expect some slash.

Lemon Juice

Perhaps he was one of the lucky ones? Perhaps he was just blessed? Perhaps he had been chosen by an almighty, all-knowing power to have a beautiful life with beautiful friends and a beautiful family? Perhaps it was just by chance, that Samuel Evans had an incredible life? He tried not to think on it too much. For now, Sam Evans would just be thankful. He liked it that way.

The blond teen lay on bed and let out a soft sigh. His freshly-washed sheets caressed the parts of his skin that were not covered by shorts or shirt. Sam was comfortable. Sam was relaxed. He liked it that way.

The textbook that lay less than a couple of feet from his grasp was sadly not fulfilling its purpose. This time, Sam could not lay the blame on his ball-aching dyslexia. It was not a learning difficulty that stopped the complex words from penetrating his brain, but the simple fact that Sam was not allowing them to. There was no place for American History because Sam's mind was fixed on creating his own.

A shallow breeze had crept in through a tiny gap between his curtains, brushing against his neck and ear and temporarily snapping him from his warm and fuzzy thoughts. Perhaps this was God's way of reminding Sam that he was still human? He tried not to think on it and instead, cast a look to the colourful clock that hung between a large poster of Saturn and a photo of his family from last year's vacation. It was later than what he thought, though still a little early to be considering sleep.

Homework was certainly out of the question. Any attempt at complex problems or pointless facts would steal away the amazing mood that Sam's mind was dancing in. To his disappointment, guitar playing would also have to wait for another day. The twins, Stacie and Stevie had been sleeping now for a good few of hours and it would be selfish to wake them in exchange for a couple of chords.

The boy considered a comic book, but his mind was in the wrong place. Comic books were for a time when Sam was not all smiles and thankful. Comic books were his salvation. Comic books were for a time when things were not going so well. When Sam was down, a hero was needed to save the world. Sam could be the hero. When things were rough he could fly away or fight the bad guys with his super human strength. But tonight did not require perfect drawings or overused words such as "crash" or "pow". Sam was happy and he liked it that way.

After little thought on what to do, Sam walked to his light switch and gave it a swift flick. Perhaps bed was the best plan after all. With a tug of his sheets, he was surrounded by warmth and comfort. He took his phone from under his pillow to set an alarm and gazed at the picture that was his wall paper. He gave a smile and ran his fingers across the screen. Sam had never been in love, his old all-boys boarding school had taken care of that, but the teen knew that this was not love.

The girl in question was a blonde, a smart blonde. Her skin was soft and glistened like moulded china. She was perfect and she was Sam's, sort of. He stared for what seemed like hours until he was finally presented with sleep.

Quinn cried. Quinn wept. Quinn was broken.

It was silly of her to think she could burry everything. The world was a time bomb and it had started its endless tick, ever since the night with Puck. The explosion had followed and now it all came crawling back like a desperate savage who taunted the night, looking for one last easy meal. But it wasn't that simple. If Quinn had learned anything; it was that nothing would ever be simple.

Everything had been fine. The blond girl new that things would never be perfect or the way things were, but for a while they were fine. School had returned and she was back in the place where she belonged. Sue had found a morsel of remorse or simply bought into Quinn's twisted tale of rehabilitation, rewarding the Cheerio with the captaincy that she once deserved. At least for a while, she could have her control.

Having bad grades had never been an issue for Quinn. As well as beauty, God had given her brains which put her on par with a mind such as Mike's. Despite everything, the rest of the glee club still loved her. So why did she feel like this?

The air had turned to ash which choked her every breath. Her spirit had grown heavy and fragmented. She wanted Quinn back. She would even bring Lucy back to life if it meant everything went away, but it wasn't that simple. Her body was no longer hers. It was a shell – an empty case – a constant reminder of what she was.

Quinn ran the paleness of her hand against the exposed skin of her belly. The skin was cracked and dented from that scars that told the story of her decline. They told her story from start to present and for that reason alone, she hated them.

It was easy for the girl to just blame Puck for this mess. She could find some abnormal comfort if he had actually violated her. She could tell her mind that he had held her throat as he thrusted into her, injected the evil of man into her innocent womb. She could picture a life where Finn was really the father. She could imagine the smile on her daughter's face as daddy returned home and kissed mommy on the cheek. But Quinn simply could not lie anymore.

And this was all the new boy's fault because Quinn was fine until he came alone

"… I don't judge you." Said the boy with the lemon juice.


	2. The Rocky Horror Quinn Show

"A mental mind fuck can be nice?" Sam's words were a mixture of flirtatious sarcasm and genuine confusion.

This was the only date since the couple's duet win that Quinn had allowed herself to me alone with Sam for more than a couple of minutes. Apparently, a brief meeting surrounded by lockers and McKinley high-schoolers did not qualify as alone time.

Despite her resistance, the girl could not hide from Sam's persistence for long. He had become a human yoyo. It did not matter how hard Quinn tried to dangle the yellowed plastic to the floor, Evans would wind himself up the string and into her tepid palm. His yoyo qualities were growing quite frustrating, but the blond girl had never known anything different. Things always came back to bite and sink their malicious teeth as deep into her flesh as was humanly possible.

"I just don't get it. How can someone like being mind...screwed."

It hadn't taken long for Quinn to realise that Sam would have to be spoon-fed on multiple occasions. It wasn't that he was stupid or an imbecile; it was just that his mind was always drifting in other places – such as her, or football, or her.

"You can look at it two different ways." Quinn replied with an overly teacherly comment. "Frank-N-Furter is either saying that it is nice to have someone completely in control of you..."

Sam was already silencing her sentence. "Like, in a sex way?"

Quinn rolled her eyes and let out a disapproving sigh in the boy's direction. "Some people do _enjoy_ those kind of things but that wasn't what I meant. Some people just like being mentally penetrated." The word clocked in her head. "Or controlled."

"Like, in a sex way?" Sam smiled, his cheeks rose up and caused his eyes to squint. Quinn followed suit and offered a giggle.

"Yes! In a sex way."

"It always rolls down to sex and man I love sex," The teen flared his teeth and with a toothy grin. He was obviously lying.

Too far. The girl had become promptly uncomfortable. Sam was already not saying what she wanted to was becoming the new Puckerman. He was already trying to burst into her body like a rapturous machine. It was only the second date and yet here she was, sat on a foreign bed, stuffed with his mother's turkey and laughing at immature gags. She pulled down her skirt, careful not to give the new boy the wrong impression and shifted the cluttered chair that stood firm by his desk.

But Sam knew he had pushed too far and over stepped the mark. This was his first time at a lot of things. It was the first time he had attempted to flirt, the first time had had used the sex word towards a girl. Most importantly, it was the first time that Quinn Fabray had allowed her perfect frame to enter into something that was Sam's. He knew this was important. He knew that he could not afford to screw things up.

"I'm sorry," even the furniture did not deliver a response. "You said there was a second meaning. I really would like to understand."

Quinn could not tell if it was possible to laugh or cry. It had only taken a couple of hours into her previous downfall of teenage angst and hormonal relapse to realise that the boy with the big lips and the bigger abs was anything but the root of her problems. In truth, Sam had made no attempt to be anything but an honest gentleman when it came to Quinn. Although a touch forward and a little slow, he was nothing short of beautiful.

_He won't ruin my life._

The blond girl tickled a stubby pencil and placed it between her pearly teeth. She started to roll it in order not to give seductive impressions to the younger teen.

"Just look at Frank's character. He is driven by his power over other people. Again, he may use this in a sexual manner but also he feels comfort in having control over a large amount of people... For example, Magenta and Rif-Raf or Rocky." She pointed at an intrigued Sam. "He is essentially 'mind fucking' them. Hence, a mental mind fuck can be nice."

"Oh," Sam was almost taken back by Quinn's simple reasoning and wording. "Mercedes must be one hell of a bitch to y'all."

"It's called acting. She's as much as a bitch as you are a mad-made sex doll."

"I know."

A gentle tap on pine door gave a perfect attempt to break the silence that had drastically begun to build.

Without a welcome, Sam's Dad placed his head between the gap of the door frame and gave the teens a smile, demolishing the rude entrance he had just made. He looked to his son and gave him a proud wink, which made Quinn shudder in an awkward manner.

"Your mom is here."

The older member of the Evans family had left the room before Quinn could muster a thankful sentence in her mouth. Sam rose from the pillows that had become his perch and swaggered towards his magnificent girl, trying to appear as cool as possible. He had to do a good job, his dad have gave him permission to.

Quinn rose to meet her man, shaking her head with a half impressed smirk. "Your mom is a great cook."

"I know," the boys words were sharp and quick. He grinned again.

"And I hope you start to understand Rocky Horror a little better. Mr Shue is really excited about the show and none of us want to let him down."

"Me either."

"So," Quinn bowed her head, almost bowing as if she was before royalty. "Thank you for having me."

Sam took his chances and leaned forward with his lips pert. He wanted to accept the thanks. He was not welcomed. Quinn cocked her to avoid the boy's lips, which to her misfortune, caused them to land upon her fleshy neck.

Sam kept moving, sucking and moaning against the edge of her fragile jaw with his unpractised tongue. She panicked. It was all too much. She had lead another on and once again she would pay the price. Her eyes closed as her mind flashed pictures of her bastard child. She twisted her legs as she felt Puck's manhood pulsing inside her. Then there was Rachel, belting a high C with a mocking pitch. She gasped as her father laughed and pointed, yelling obscenities and making crude gestures.

Sam stopped. She was calm again.

"Is this right?" Quinn was confused.

_No, this is not right. I will never be right because you fucking broke me._

"It's just that I've never really done this before so I'm only going on what I've seen in movies. Most of those have far away planets and some deadly ray-guns but you get the picture." Quinn did not answer. For a brief moment, everything was white. She was warm again. "Did I go too far again because if I did then I am so sorry? I was just trying..."

She placed a finger upon his pacing mouth to silence his desperate apology. For another brief moment, her eyes were dry and Quinn was fine.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Lemon Juice."

A/N - Thank you so much for the reviews. Like I said, I'm completely new to fanfic so thank you so much for taking the time to have a read. Keep them coming. Even if you hate it, please tell me what I can do to imrove.

I'm not too happy with this chapter. It just seems a bit all over the place and more like chapter 1 part 2 than a new chapter. Like I said, I want toget much darker. This is a Sam story but it's very Quinn at the moment.

Hope you like it!


	3. Cool Ranch Doritos Part 1

A/N: Hello. Thank you all again for the reviews. Always nice to hear. I'm sorry for the lack of update but I've been really busy so here is a little chapter. I'm aware it's still not very dark but if you're patient then shit will start going down. As a heads up, I want this story to run as honest and close to the show as possible. I want it be almost as if you could be watching the show and these would be the scenes that didn't air. Almost like a "this is what was happening over here" thing. I hope that makes sense. Thank you!

There was an odd sense of matured tradition that festered from the décor of Mr Schuester's office. Even in Spanish class, it was hard for The New Directions to separate their mentor's choir directing wizardry from his fun-loving, fatherly qualities. It was a shame that the same could not be said for the aging wardrobe that was Will's paper prison.

The fading tones of browns and whites told no imaginative tales or sang any songs of teenage ideals. The integrated draws of paper and pens, clips and staplers and dated markers did not project the magical wonder that was Mr Shue's mind. It was old and it was dated. Sam did not like it that way.

The teen sat at the correct side of the desk and stared into an empty chair. His day had dragged and rehearsals had flown like coagulated syrup, which resonated through the mirrored thoughts of Sam's mind. It was unlike the boy to have lost his focus like this. Any other day, he would be burning his muscles at the gym or hopelessly lusting after his female counterpart, Quinn. Today, there was nothing more that the sixteen year old wanted than to turn off his slugged brain and sleep. Instead he slumped upon his chair, waiting for his teacher to arrive.

It did not take long for the elder to bust through the door, carrying the sense of controlled panic. He crossed his way to his side of the desk and placed down a musty mug of much-needed coffee and a half-ass attempt at a glass of orange juice. Will offered Sam a cookie which he took from the draw but the younger man smiled and gestured his hand with in an act of good manners. Mr Schuester finally sat down.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, Sam. I'll try not to keep you for very long. You look beat." My Schue brought the mug to his lips and proceeded to take a couple of heavy gulps. Sam stayed silent. At the present time, there was nothing more than an 'ok' that the boy could muster up that would qualify as a polite response. After a couple of beats, Mr Schue took his cue.  
"How are you finding Glee club?"

"It's fun." The boy's eyelids were growing heavy and he prayed that his teacher would notice. There was no drive in Sam's monotone voice that indicated he wanted to play his part in the conversation. It was not that he did not want to be around his teacher. For the brief time he had known the man, Schue had slotted himself comfortably into Sam's perfect life, taking the roll of the much needed 'cool adult'. Though right now, Sam's idea of a perfect life was nothing short of a pillow, a mattress and a duvet.

"You seem to have fit yourself in very well. The other kids know just how talented you are."

"Thanks." Although the teen's voice had matched the same tone as before, the boy found it difficult to hide the growing redness that rapidly crept across his features. He was always a sucker for a compliment. "I appreciate you saying that, sir."

"I wouldn't say it if it wasn't true." For a couple of seconds, Sam had forgotten his needless craving to be tucked into a deliciously ripe bed. His teacher smiled and radiated a warmth that Sam had never known to come from someone in Will's line of work. Mr Schuester was a nice, honest man towards everyone he met and Sam found the quality admirable.

"Is there anything you would like to ask me about the club? Maybe the other kids in school or your other classes?"

"Only if you know a way I can get Quinn to suck my dick." Same froze. He bit down hard on his bottom lip and diverted his eyes away from Schue's. Mr Schuester face became paralyzed.

_Why the hell did I say that? Why the hell did I say that? Why the hell did I say that?_

"That's really inappropriate, Sam."

Silence.

"Which is exactly why I asked for this meeting? It's about Rocky Horror."

"Sir, I am so sorry!" It was clear to Sam that Mr Shue's relaxed state had now transformed to something of a disciplined boulder. His jaw cocked forward as he took a single, slow gulp from his coffee. "I don't think Rocky is an appropriate part for you."

"I don't understand."

"I just don't think you have the mental or physical discipline to handle such a mature role."

"Is this about the shorts?"

"What shorts?"

"It's just the hot pants that I have to wear, Mr Schue. I thought everything would be cool but then Quinn was bouncing around, getting all sweaty and Rachel was talking about being in her underwear so I started thinking about Rachel in her underwear and my mind wandered and I got excited so things downstairs started to wake up for playtime, then I tried to hide it and I thought nobody noticed. Those shorts are so small and it's kind of big so…"

"Sam!" The boy was allowed to breathe. Mr Schuester had moved from contained angriness to an outburst of awkwardness. The teacher understood everything. After all, it hadn't been too long since he was in the same position. Despite this, this was not the time and place to have this kind of discussion with Sam. There would never be a time or a place to have this conversation with Sam. "I didn't see anything _odd_ about the shorts."

"Oh." The teen did not know whether to feel more embarrassed or relieved. "I suppose this means I can change the shorts then."

"Not exactly."

"But sir, what if I get caught short and it happens again?"

"You won't need the shorts, Sam. I'm cutting your part."

A/N…Again: I hope you liked part one. Please review and let me know what you think should happen? See if I can get some inspiration. I added a little silliness just to lighten the depressing stuff with Quinn from previous chapters so I hope you didn't just think it was immature. Don't worry… shits gonna hit the fan soon!


	4. Cool Ranch Doritos Part 2

It was almost pot luck that Sam's knuckles of coated white skin had not split or cracked from the impact they had made against his locker. He had regretted his actions straight away, due to the thick, blue bruises that had forced their way to the surface. It would be a bitch to hide, and Sam would find no pleasure in explaining his act of stupidity to anyone. But at the time it had seemed the right thing to do. At the time, it was his locker or the gloating face of Mr Schuester.

Sam had spent the evening wondering if he had overreacted. He didn't hate his Spanish Teacher or see him in a new, negative light. It was more of feeling betrayal from his mentor. The man had served Sam a plate of fine approval and delicious compliments, inserting his misleading tongue of false pride deep into the boy's ass, kissing and licking the insides for all they were worth. As quickly as the adult had begun, he rolled his slavering speech back into his jaws and drove a solid steel dagger into Sam's teenage back, taking Sam's musical part as it left his muscle.

Sam questioned if his rambling speech of gold-shorts and teenage erections had pushed Mr Schue over the edge. It was too much for his brain to handle. His eyes were still exhausted and his mind was fixed on Mr Schue and his "inappropriate casting".

_'Well you fuckin' gave me the part in first place ,you fucking… hypocrite. You stupid, old… man!'_

These were not Sam's true thoughts. His conceptions were poisoned. It was his second regret of the night.

After the mechanical numbers of Sam's phone had shifted past 10AM, he knew he would not be sleeping anytime soon, which only fuelled his temper. Not only had Mr Schue stolen his part, he had also taken his desperate demand for sleep by injecting plaguing thoughts of "why?" and "what if?"

Therefore, breaking into his dad's liquor cabinet had become an obvious and simple task. Sam had heard somewhere that a shot of whiskey would send anyone to The Land of Nod if they really wanted it. Two thirds of the bottle later and Sam was still awake. Sam was still awake and very much drunk.

Everything moved as if his eyes were hastily creating a fresh canvas every time he averted his look. His mental space of unforgiving yet questioning thoughts had started to shift and rock, as if his bed was on a voyage of its own. The small gap between Sam's neck and chest has started to burn. It was smouldering, and like a hot air balloon, it rose with the heat.

The teen could feel the inevitable moment coming. Sam tensed his lips and locked them closed. The last thing he wanted to do was throw up. He could call Puckerman to replace the booze. It wasn't as if his father was much of a drinker and it would take a good couple of days for him to notice it was gone. But if Sam vomited, the smell alone would give the boy's intoxicated position away, and he would be in more trouble than he could ever imagine. It wasn't worth the risk.

The cocktail of pre-consumed alcohol and Cool Ranch Doritos hit the back of Sam's teeth with a liquidy gush. Before it could purge its way through his is giant lips, the boy swallowed and felt the burning sensation travel in the opposite direction. The taste was nothing pleasant. The pungent flavour clung to his insides like it was thick oil. He needed to wash the poison away and soon; otherwise the gagging sensation would make him toss his cookies again.

Getting out of his room was not as big of a challenge as Sam had first thought. There was an occasional wobble but nothing too unsteady that would cause his feet to fall from under him. He extended his arm to stroke the wall; half to steady his movements and also to find his way to the bathroom in the darkness.

There were only a couple of feet left till Sam would be surrounded by the paradise that was washing out his mouth and brushing his teeth. He held his breath as he passed the twins' room as the drunken steps were drawing to a close. The blond let out a sigh as the door came into view.

One step – two steps- three…

There was a rushing agony that shot from Sam's thigh to his shoulder. There was no indication that Sam could have tripped and the boy was confident that his balance was controlled. The burning sensation had returned with his fall but his head was far too fuzzy to do anything. In less than a couple of seconds, Sam blacked out.

Something was banging. It wasn't a loud bang or an epic crash like something out of a comic book; it was more of a hollow tap. It repeated for a couple of seconds before it finally came to a halt. Sam shifted and rolled over to face the noise. Something wasn't quite right. As his eyes opened and shifted into focus, he noticed that his room was clean and there was no indication of his nightly activity.

He swivelled to regain his comfortable position as a small jolt of pain struck his shoulder. It was nothing major and the blond thought it was lucky that he had not done any serious damage. He brought his injured hand to his face. The swelling had gone but the colour of the bruise had spread across his hand and darkened.

His phone buzzed. There was a couple of missed calls from Finn as well as a couple of hundred from Quinn. The images of the previous night began to flash back with copious amounts of regret and embarrassment. Before starting on the countless text messages from his girlfriend, he started with Finn.

FINN HUDSON: Dude, you wanna come over my place and play some COD? Rachel's out with her dads and it might take your mind of things?

FINN HUDSON: ….Yes?...No?

FINN HUDSON: My mom says you can stay… I haven't told her about your drinking so you'll have to try and be sober and maybe take a Tik-Tak or something.

FINN HUDSON: Sam?

FINN HUDSON: Want me to call Quinn?

FINN HUDSON: Dude, just stop drinking. It's really bad to drink on your own. You'll get all depressed and stuff.

FINN HUDSON: Is this about being fat 'cause you're totally ripped, man?

FINN HUDSON: Burt gave me some beer?

FINN HUDSON: Evans, if you don't call me back I'm going to call Mr Schue. I'm worried about you.

FINN HUDSON: Dude?

Sam wanted to take his phone and crack himself over the head till his skull burst and his weakened blood blinded him. Sam had forgotten that at some point during the night he had called his new friend when he was drunk, whining and moaning about getting cut from Rocky Horror; which had obviously lead on further to some of Sam's suppressed issues. The blond felt nothing short of a fool.

Despite his best interests, Sam decided that he would wait to apologise to Finn. He still had Quinn's messages and mist calls to deal with. Even if fan was mad at Sam, he would never show it… unlike the Cheerio. With a flick of his thumb, Sam scrolled down to the first message.

QUINN 3: Hey Blondie. Sorry I missed your call I was in the shower. Cheerios practise got cancelled so you could have come over after all. Do you want me to call you back? X

QUINN 3: Answer your phone, Sam! X

QUINN 3: Are you playing hard to get? It's working. X

QUINN 3: Finn just called. I'm really sorry to hear about the show. I think your Rocky was perfect and really sexy. Finn said you didn't want to tell me because you thought I would be ashamed but he thought I should know you're a little down tonight. Don't get mad because he's gone behind your back! X

QUINN 3: I didn't mean that how it sounded. X

QUINN 3: Answer your phone, SAM! X

QUINN 3: Finn is just looking out for you. He's being a good friend. I'm so proud of what you did with your part so don't think you have to hide it from me. X

QUINN 3: I assume you've gone to sleep. I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe you could come round and I could give you something special to cheer you up? Xxx

QUINN 3: Hey Sammy. I hope you're feeling better. My mom's away for the day if you want to come over for your present? xx

Sam felt a little overwhelmed. Finn had saved his ass but still allowed his girl to know he was down. Perhaps he was in the clear? Quinn hadn't even let Sam touch her boobs yet and now she was inviting him over for something special? Beautifully horny pictures of the message shot threw his head. The boy closed his eyes and let his palm work its way down to his boxers. His thoughts took over.

_Sam pulls up his truck at the front of Quinn's house. He knocks on the door and she opens it, as if she was waiting for him to arrive. She's wearing her Cheerios uniform but her hair is down, bouncing and flowing around her shoulders. Sam tries to speak buts she firmly places a finger over his lips and takes his hand with the other. She leads him up the stairs. _

The boy placed a hand under his waistband. With the teenage thoughts gushing into every part of his brain, his underwear had already tented. The boy gave his length a quick stroke which caused his injured shoulder to make a tiny jolt of stinging pain. Sam didn't care.

_Quinn opens the door of her bedroom and issues her man to close it behind her. With force she pushes Sam against the hard wood and lunges at his ear. She bites down hard on his lobe and one of her hands brushes against his side. The biting continues as her hand stops over her boyfriend's bulge. Quinn gives a light squeeze and whispers, "How much do you want this?" Her finger is pressed against his lips once again before Sam can muster up any kind of response. In a hasty drop, she is on her knees. _

Sam's pumping was becoming more vigorous. His shoulder ached but he carried on, knowing that soon he would be close. His need to slow down did not counteract his want for pleasure. He tightened his grasp as his free hand shoved part of his pillow into his mouth to muffle his growing moans. He did not want his parents walking in now.

_The blond girl's eyes catch Sam's. She lets out a small groan as she fumbles with the zipper on the teen's jeans. With one swift movement, Sam's dick is free and Quinn wastes no time in engulfing the boy's impressive rod into her mouth. Her soft lips work their magic at the base as her nose is lightly tickled with mousy pubic hair. She hums around his length as her tongue flicks and licks around his shaft. Evans is in heaven. _

The aggravating knocking soon returned. It was coming from his bedroom door. Sam's mind turned pale as his body deflated. In a fit of panic, Sam covered his body in his duvet, just in time for his dad to enter. The older man started to laugh. It was an odd laugh and not the kind that would be expected when someone was almost caught masturbating.

"Well there's our Sambuca Evans!" His father's words seemed to boom as if he was trying to conjure up some kind of hangover. "How's the head?"

"Fine…Dad I am so sorry!" Sam sat up, careful not to flash his erection in the direction of Mr Evans. "How long am I grounded for?"

"Grounded? Who said anything about grounded?" His Dad made a perch at the foot of Sam's bed and carefully tossed away a pillow that was in his way. "How long do you think you should be grounded for?"

Sam had always hated his Dad's punishments. He did not like how his Dad tried to negotiate. Either way, Mr Evans would usually double or triple Sam's figure. It was a lost cause.

"A week." This was a hopefully modest answer. His Dad's laughter soon continued as he placed a gentle slap on his son's leg.

"I suppose I could ground you for a week. Hell, I could even ground you for a year… maybe even the rest of your life." Sam closed his eyes. This speech was far too well-known to him and it was not worth the interjection of disrespect. "But I'm not going to do that."

"What?" Sam's reaction came with a gasp of genuine surprise. "Why the hell not?"

"Unless you want to be grounded for a year or…"

"No!"

"So I got a little phone call last night; a phone call that I found a little upsetting and a little funny all at the same time." His dad stopped. The whole time, his eyes had never caught Sam's. It was growing more and more awkward and Sam could not help but wonder what was to come. "Now the fine, young gentleman on the end of the phone was very concerned. He said that my son, you, were heavily intoxicated and on your own."

Sam's mind immediately thought of Finn. He was not mad at the older teen for telling his girlfriend about Rocky, but telling his father about his drunkenness lost him major bro points. Sam would not be letting this go easily, even if he was grounded forever.

"So I thought to myself, my boy would not be getting drunk in his bedroom all on his own, would he?" Sam did not give a reply. "Would he?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then the fine young gentleman said that he had cut you from the school play and that he felt responsible for your actions and that he was very sorry for any upset that he may have caused. So then I thought to myself; is this man taking the blame for my son being drunk off of my whiskey, in my home?"

"No, sir."

"Incorrect. You see the young gentleman; Mr Schuester I think his name was, would like to send out his full apologies. And I accept that. Over and out."

Sam was more than confused. With each thought came a new question. Why would Mr Schue take the blame? Why was his dad being so easy on him? How the hell did Mr Schuester know about last night's events?

And then, as if like clockwork, everything ticked. Finn had followed through with request to call their teacher. Finn had saved the day. "So that's it then? I'm getting off free?" Sam gave his father a grateful smile. He held on with anticipation till the man met his glance and smiled in return. "Seriously?"

"When I was in high school, I was dating the most gorgeous girl on campus."

"What does the story of you meeting Mom have anything to do with me… apart from the obvious part." Mr Evans shook his head and looked away from his son.

"Different girl."

"Oh."

"Any way, I thought this girl was the best thing that had ever happened to me. I was obsessed with her." Sam's Dad's actions told stories of his past. The pair had always had a great relationship, but his father had never opened up or told him anything about his life. This was a whole new experience. "So she broke up with me."

"Bummer."

"So that night I stole some booze from my dad and drowned my sorrows. He found me and kicked the crap out of me. And I promised myself that I would never drink to make myself feel better again. It's stupid and it's irresponsible and I thought better of you Sam."

"I'm sorry, Dad." He really was.

"Just think yourself lucky that you've got great teachers and a great Dad that will take care of you… and clean the vomit off you… and put you to bed."

"Thanks, Dad." The boy leaned over and gave his father a tight yet manly hug. He was one of the lucky ones. "I appreciate that… and love you and stuff."

"Don't think you're getting off that easily." The blond boy knew it. He was built up just to be knocked down, again. He sighed and slumped himself down in his bed.

"On Monday, you're going to go see that Schuester guy and thank him. He did a good thing, calling me. In return, I won't tell your Mom. Deal?"

"Deal… What else?"

"You promise me that when you're down you'll come and talk to me. Myself and my dad never had what we have. Let's take care of that, yeah?" Sam's face was in awe. At this moment in time, there was nobody on the planet that Sam looked up to more than his father. Everything was almost perfect again.

"You have a deal, sir!"

"Good," Mr Evans replied, standing up and shifting his way to the bedroom door. "You can finish jerking off now!"

**A/N: Hello again. Thank you so much for reading. If you review, that would be amazing. Even if you hate it, I just want to get better so please give some feedback. **

**Also, that was my first time and writing any kind of sex/foreplay. Please forgive me if I completely ruined it. **

**Thank you. Update soon! (Apologies for any mistakes, either spelling or grammar or something else. I do always read everything over a couple of hundred times but I always miss something) **


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